Maturation
by kitsunelover
Summary: AU Peter accepts Mrs. Darling's invitation to live at No. 14. This new life comes at the cost of his eternal childhood. The stupid boy doesn't realize that growing up is every bit as terrifying as he's always believed.


_Maturation_  
  
Disclaimer: Peter Pan is the creation of J.M. Barrie. No profits being made here!  
  
A/N: This is based heavily on the book, so people who have only seen the movie may be confused at times. In other notes, this is my first fic for something that isn't Harry Potter or Yu Yu Hakusho, my primary fandoms. Huzzah!  
  
. . .  
  
"Mrs. Darling came to the window, for at present she was keeping a sharp eye on Wendy. She told Peter that she had adopted all the other boys, and would like to adopt him also." –_Peter Pan_, J.M. Barrie

. . .

Peter looked long at Wendy, and her mother at her side. He saw the ardor that had lighted in Wendy's eyes as soon as Mrs. Darling had made her request, and the beautiful kiss in the right-hand corner of Mrs. Darling's mouth. He saw also the joy of the Lost Boys as they reveled in the new adventure on which they had set off, abandoning him. Peter twitched. The novelty of living at No. 14 beckoned him.  
  
"Do say yes," Wendy pleaded. "Then I can still be your mother – you'll have two mothers!"  
  
Mrs. Darling smiled indulgently at the pair of children.  
  
It was this prospect of two mothers that swayed Peter. He had always needed a mother, and _two_ were quite tempting. "All right, then," he said solemnly.  
  
Wendy squealed with delight.  
  
. . .  
  
Time passed, and Peter discovered that there were things rather more important than mothers. One by one the Lost Boys started to grow up. There came a day when Slightly said, in response to an anxious question posed by a increasingly distraught Peter, "Fairies? Why, I don't believe in fairies."  
  
"Shh!" hissed Peter, hands hovering over Slightly's offending mouth. Slightly looked guilty for a moment, then recovered his composure and stalked away. "Tink," moaned Peter. Who knew which fairy Slightly had killed off? It might have been Peter's own.  
  
One may ask why – why didn't Peter fly off as soon as he realized what life on the mainland was really like? School everyday, no Indians, no flying, real medicine in place of the placebo Peter was accustomed to taking – it was quite awful. But rather quickly, Peter had developed the horrible infirmity of the children of the mainland, the one which was immediately obvious in Wendy, John, and Michael. He had become dependent on the adults. They were sort of crutches to him. And then, his flying ability was failing, though he retained it longer than Curly, or Tootles, or the twins. Lastly, perhaps the worst blow of all, Peter, who could hardly remember who Captain Hook was, had forgotten the way back to the Neverland. Thus had Peter become trapped on the mainland.  
  
He told Wendy of his despair once, but she said consolingly, "No matter, you can still be happy here with Mother and Father, and the boys, and me, can't you?"  
  
And because he did not wish to hurt her feelings, he nodded miserably. You see how far gone he was? Peter had already lost his charming heartlessness.  
  
The years went by . . .  
  
. . .  
  
Now, Peter is nearly fifteen years old. He has lost all his first teeth, and just this morning, he felt the first hints of fuzz on his chin. Soon, he'll have to learn to shave. He even remembers things properly now; he remembers the way back to Neverland! Pity, he can no longer fly.  
  
Of all the boys, however, he is the most childish. He alone still believes in fairies; and he has his first laugh still (just barely), but he laughs so seldom now that it hardly matters. He's growing up, and it's killing him inside.  
  
Today was the school recital. When he left, decked in starched shirt and tie, Mrs. Darling remarked, "How manly you look!"  
  
As soon as he got back, Mr. Darling noticed how short his pants were getting and said, "Why, you're shooting up!"  
  
Worst of all, Wendy came to him later that night and whispered, "You were wonderful," and kissed/thimbled him full on the lips. He liked it in spite of himself.  
  
His days have become one long silent scream.  
  
. . .  
  
A/N: Do I like reviews? Is the earth round? Hmm . . . 


End file.
